Pyrotechnical Tempest

Next to the Globe theatre in London on the Southbank is the Sam Wannamaker Theatre, or, as I feel it to be, a theatre such as Inigo Jones would have designed in the early decades of the 17th century. Wooden seats, walnut backdrop and candles burning, then as now....

In Internet Isolation

Severed from the internet after my laptop’s ‘face’ slipped so I couldn’t find the icons and commands at the bottom, I’ve been unable to send emails or post blogs and lived a carefree time of neglect. My antiquated computer in Beverley still functions, but I have been...

Flecks of Autumn Gold

The leaves of the horse chestnut tree outside my window are edged in gold. Over the summer a bird of prey – some say a hawk – nested in one of the Minster towers and feasted on my companions for many a year, the woodpigeons. Schoolchildren scavenge for the conkers...

Pilgrimage – in search of Mozart

Friends have invited me back to Vienna and I am tempted. Will I repeat the strange things I did when I was last there? I planned to see the famous Spanish horses, but it was the wrong time of year for the dressage displays, so I could only look down from a balcony at...